登入The Valley
As Nancy finished showing me around the rest of the museum, she brought me to my new office and allowed me to get comfortable with my surroundings for the remainder of the day. I spent the next hour moving the furniture around as well as placing my desk in the center back of the room—a layout similar to Mr. Thompson's office. I wondered if he had also designed my office. The ambience in here was much different than how his office had felt. Everything was brighter; simple looking. His had felt somewhat cozy and intimate while mine felt cold and detached. I made it a plan to pick up some small decor and other office things to make it look more appealing before I went home. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I made this place my own. I also couldn't help but think about what Nancy had said to me about Mr. Thompson. A man who craves discipline in every aspect of his life. Her words replaying in my head, a part of me wanted to figure out what that meant. A man obsessed with control in a work setting is nothing new, but needing it at all times was a different story and feeling like there was a reason behind that, piqued my interest. My mind then wandered to a place it shouldn't have. Curious as to why he had created a whole room dedicated to that specific art form. Curious if he had brought any women there and used the things in that space on them. Wondering what it'd be like if I was one of those women. I mentally pinched myself. Eve, you're being incredibly unprofessional. Shaking the thought from my head, I continued to organize. By the time I was finished moving things around, the sun had already set and it was time for me to head out as Nancy had also told me she was leaving almost an hour ago. Walking out of my office and locking the door behind me, I headed towards the main staircase but before I walked down, I noticed a bit of light coming from down the hallway across from where I was standing—Mr. Thompson's office. Before Nancy left, she told me that normally everyone was out the door by 6pm but almost an hour had passed and Mr. Thompson was still here. I debated walking to his office and saying goodbye but decided against it as I didn't want to interrupt him. He seemed to be a rather busy man and the last thing I wanted was to get in his way. As I reached the bottom of the staircase, I noticed a man at the front entrance, locking up. "Oh wait! Don't forget about me!" I shouted, jogging towards the door. "Mes excuses, Alex est normalement la seule personne encore présente à cette heure." The man started to speak, looking up. "Je m'appelle Nicolas Meunier. Vous devez être nouveau." [my apologies, Alex is normally the only person still around at this hour / i'm Nicolas Meunier, you must be new.] "I'm so sorry, I don't—" I tried telling him that I didn't speak French but he caught on before I could explain. "Ah, forgive me. You must be the American. Eve Daniels? Alex's new assistant?" He questioned and I nodded. "I was just saying that Alex is normally the only person that stays late, I was locking up for him." Getting a full view of the man—he was tall, dressed in a black suit, white shirt and a black tie. Another quite attractive, put-together man stood in front of me. His facial features being sharp, the only differences between him and Mr. Thompson was that this man's hair was a light shade of brown as well as his eyes nearing a more chocolate color. "Not a problem, uh, Mr. Meunier? Did I catch that right?" I asked to which he confirmed with a nod. "Today was kind of my first day and I was just getting situated with my new office, thus the reason for staying late. I apologize for the inconvenience." "It's completely fine, Miss Daniels. So, I assume you've gotten the chance to meet the lovely Alex Thompson?" He asked, unlocking the door and opening it for me. "Yes I have." I replied, hesitant to say anything more. "I can sense that you're a little skeptical of him," He commented. "He's just a bit—" "Cold? Distant? Inhospitable?" I inquired, filling in his words for him. "You've got quite the mouth on you, Miss Daniels. However, I do see how you might feel that way. Pragmatic is what I would describe him as. Alex has a way of coming across as a big bully at first but you're here for the next nine months. Let him grow on you." Mr. Meunier chimed, walking with me down the steps of the museum. "I'll take your word for it. If you don't mind me asking, what do you do here?" I asked as we reached the bottom. "I work right alongside Alex. I'm the museum's registrar. Everything Alex brings into this museum, I make sure is accounted for," He explained. "He also happens to be my best friend on the weekends." He laughed, waving down a cab for me. "You two are friends?" I asked, suddenly interested in learning about the two's relationship. I didn't peg Mr. Thompson for the friendly type. "Yes but that is a conversation for another time, Miss Daniels. You should get going before your first real day of work with Alex—you're going to need it. Au revoir." He said, waving me off. Despite it being my first time at the museum, I was already made aware of everything within those walls and the specifics of my job. A million things were going through my head—I was having thoughts of regret, wondering if I made a mistake applying there. Though I knew better than to give into those thoughts, I still had my doubts. The last thing I wanted was to set myself up for failure as there were already people around me that wanted me to do exactly that. Fail. But I knew that if I had decided to entertain those thoughts, I might as well just pack up and go home and I wasn't going to give up that easily. Getting ready for bed, I turned off the bathroom lights, causing the streetlights to be the only thing that dimly lit up my tiny home. As I got under the covers, I couldn't help but think about what Mr. Meunier had said to me. Rest up, you're going to need it. Closing my eyes and drifting off to the white noises of Paris, I did exactly what Mr. Meunier had told me to do as I was fully determined to take on whatever Alex Thompson threw my way.Morning thoughtsWaking up a couple of hours before I was supposed to be at work, I decided to take advantage of the time by slowly getting ready for the day. Slipping out of my clothes, I remembered that the water temperature had been fixed last night. Instantly put into a good mood, I stood under the shower head for a few minutes, allowing my body to adjust to the almost scorching hot drops—my favorite kind of shower.While I placed my left leg on the edge of the bathtub and placed a layer of shaving cream from my ankle up, I suddenly let my mind wander to the things I experienced yesterday. Creating streaks with a cheap razor over my soft skin, my thoughts once again narrowed in on the BDSM exhibit.Although I was heavily interested in BDSM, I still didn't see myself as a submissive or a masochist. While the many facets associated with the lifestyle excited me, due to my lack of experience, I still wasn't sure where I fit in.As I started to think about what it would be like if I g
The Valley As Nancy finished showing me around the rest of the museum, she brought me to my new office and allowed me to get comfortable with my surroundings for the remainder of the day. I spent the next hour moving the furniture around as well as placing my desk in the center back of the room—a layout similar to Mr. Thompson's office.I wondered if he had also designed my office. The ambience in here was much different than how his office had felt. Everything was brighter; simple looking. His had felt somewhat cozy and intimate while mine felt cold and detached. I made it a plan to pick up some small decor and other office things to make it look more appealing before I went home. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I made this place my own.I also couldn't help but think about what Nancy had said to me about Mr. Thompson. A man who craves discipline in every aspect of his life. Her words replaying in my head, a part of me wanted to figure out what that meant. A man obsessed with control i
The Private Room The first section of the floor was everything dedicated to paintings, statues, and sculptures, as well as erotic films being projected onto one of the walls. Cordelia walked ahead of me, towards two big French doors, and pulled both of them open.The second section was a much more private setting. The main event. Anything that was wood, was a dark walnut, similar to Mr. Thompson's office. The walls were painted an opaque cherry color as well as all of the furniture details following suit with even darker shades of red. The room smelt reminiscent of Cordelia's scent—rose, leather, musk, with a trace of mint. A clean essence. Rich sex. There were a bunch of different furnishings and objects scattered throughout the room.Between racks full of restraints, canes, whips, and paddles and the four-poster California king bed that sat in the corner, with more restraints placed at the top—the entire room was filled with everything having to do with the BDSM lifestyle.Despite
Office Talk The abruptness of the situation caused me to step back into the stiff figure and drop my wine glass, shattering all over the granite floor below me. As I tried to regain my composure, a pair of soft hands landed on either side of my body, steadying me. Attempting to hide my embarrassment, I exhaled and turned around."You must be Miss Daniels. Alex Thompson." He extended his hand out, waiting for me to shake it.Making eye contact, the first thing that came to mind—he wasn't what I expected a museum director to look like. I had expected a man well into his years, someone with wrinkles and gray hair, and possibly a receding hairline. To be blunt, I expected someone old.I mean, being the head director of a renowned museum that held thousands of expensive works wasn't an easy job and it wasn't like there were a lot of people below the age of sixty that appreciated learning about art history."Oh—oh no, it's okay. I don't think that's from the broken glass. I tripped earlier
Late ArrivalBack home, I had made it a habit to watch the sun rise and set everyday. I became rather familiar with how the colors of the sky had been affected by the different seasons. Knowing that in the wintertime, the lack of sun allowed me to become enamored with dark skies and during the summer, giving me the chance to stay out longer and enjoy many cloudless days.Despite seeing hundreds of sunrises and sunsets before, watching the sunsets day start and end in Paris was much different. It felt like time didn't exist. Spend a week here and you'd find yourself never wanting to leave. At least, that's how I was feeling. I had the privilege of waking up to the smell of freshly baked goods coming from the cafe below and falling asleep to the sound of a faint harp being played on the cobble-stoned streets outside my window.It was like living in a fantasy world I had created in my dreams as a child—a world that was purely mine.Managing to find an apartment and settle in after stayi







